The Flexibility of An Arrow
by AvengersIsLife
Summary: In the aftermath of Civil War, both sides try to handle the aftermath, until a plot to create enhanced humans causes both sides to put aside their differences and work together. Lines get blurred between right and wrong when they run into an old ally who they thought they'd never see again.
1. Chapter 1

Tony Stark sat alone in a dark room, drinking what was left of his favorite scotch. It had been months since Steve Rogers had broken into the Raft and 'rescued' Barton, Maximoff, Wilson, and Lang.

In reality, Tony had 'accidentally' sent orders to the compound in Ross's name, asking for security to be reduced because they were "needed elsewhere." He had made sure that when (not if) Steve broke in to free them, that he would have an easy time with security. Tony knew the Avengers didn't need to be contained the way they were. They were just doing what they thought was right; they were following their leader.

Tony sighed, then poured himself the final few drops of scotch. He looked out the giant window in front of him, where the sun was just starting to set over the Avengers compound. The failing light emphasized the heavy wrinkles and lines on his face, aging the genius by about fifteen years.

Behind Tony, a figure entered the room quietly, walking gently up behind him.

"Tony, Rhodey called today, he wanted to know how things were going with the new design for his legs?"

Pepper Potts, who was one of the few people capable of reading Tony and his state of mind, grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up next to him.

"I would get to designing something, or else he'll march himself up here and get your ass moving himself."

Not getting even a half smile from her fiance, Pepper knew he wasn't in a good place.

"Tony-"

"I got a call from Steve today."

Pepper raised her eyebrows. "That's, that's... good? What did he, what did he want?"

Tony blinked a few times, then swallowed what was left in his glass. "My help."

Pepper's expression remained that of shock, and she was reading Tony's face for any sign of emotion, whether anger or happiness. The subject of Steve was one Pepper tried to avoid, as it brought up conflicting emotions. Part of Tony still hated the man with a never ending fury, while the other half missed Steve and the rest of the Avengers so much it physically hurt him. The Avengers were the closest thing to a family that Tony had had in a long time.

Pepper waited for a few more moments, trying to see if she would get any more information out of him, but Tony just continued staring out the window.

"Help with what?"

Tony sighed, raised his glass to take a sip, realized it was empty, and lowered it again.

"He said he had some information on some illegal training program, something I needed to check out. He wants to meet, if I'll agree to it."

"Are you, are you going to go?"

Tony said nothing, but continued to stare out the window in front of them. The sun had officially set, and the stars were beginning to come out, casting the room in a dreary darkness.

* * *

A year earlier, thousands of miles away in a small, frigid graveyard, two figures moved quickly and silently past the headstones, making their way towards the back of the lot. The moon was full, and a fresh coat of snow lay on the ground, so they cast shadows as they moved.

Every inch of their skin was wrapped up in dark clothing, except for their eyes, which were barely visible behind the thick scarves wrapped about their faces. They each carried a large pack on their back, with a shovel strapped to the side.

Once they reached the back corner of the lot, they slowed their pace and began spreading out, covering the area, reading the grave markers as they went. After a few minutes of searching, one of the figures whistled, and then motioned for the other to come over.

The other walked over quickly, read the marker, then nodded in agreement. Simultaneously, the two figures pulled the shovels from their pack and began to dig.

In the faint light of the full moon, the words on the marker could barely be made out, reading

PIETRO MAXIMOFF

BELOVED BROTHER AND SON


	2. Chapter 2

"Just think about it, alright? I know you don't owe me anything, but this is important. It's pretty big, Tony. It's much worse than we thought. Just think about it."

Sam Wilson watched as Steve Rogers sighed wearily, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"I understand. Take your time. You know how to reach me."

Steve closed the flip phone with a snap, staring at the small device in his hands. Sam continued studying the man before him.

"He's not coming, is he?"

"I couldn't expect him to. After everything that happened? I'm just grateful he answered the phone."

In the silence between the two, loud bickering could be heard coming from a nearby room, causing Steve to sigh again. Sam, however, chuckled.

"Look, you can't expect to leave Barton, Romanoff, and T'Challa alone and not get some sort of argument out of them. They're all fighters but they each work in their own way. They're bound to have their disagreements."

This got a small grin from Steve, and after a nudge from Sam, the two got up and rejoined their friends.

After Steve had broken his friends out of the prison, they had each gone their separate ways. Wanda left to find Vision, Scott went back to his family under an alias, Clint went back to his farm, and Sam went with Steve to Wakanda, where they continued searching for ways to help Bucky, who remained in cryofreeze. All had been going well, until T'Challa had received a call from Natasha, who said she needed his help. Not missing a chance to help out a friend, Steve and Sam tagged along, and met Natasha and Clint on the outskirts of a small Russian town, where she informed them what was really going on in the area. Realizing it was a lot more than she could handle, Natasha had called in Clint, Steve, Sam, and T'Challa, and had suggested the idea of calling Tony.

"No, I will not stop, you know what you did!"

"Look, the 7 was all I could play, alright? You had less cards in your hand so you were my target!"

"Oh come on we all know T'Challa has the better hand!"

"Natasha, please do not remind him of that."

"I know I could've but I wanted yours."

"Fuck off."

Sam and Steve chuckled as they took seats at the table where Natasha, Clint, and T'Challa were currently engaged in an intense game of UNO.

Clint groaned and Natasha grumbled "Oh, you *insert Russian curse word*" as T'Challa played a 0, effectively causing everyone to switch hands in the direction of play, giving T'Challa the hand with less cards.

"You should've listened to your partner, Clint," T'Challa grinned, causing Clint to stick his tongue out at the king.

"What type of game of UNO are you playing?" asked Sam, a little puzzled.

"It's a variation where playing a 7 allows you to switch hands with a certain player, and playing a 0 causes everyone to switch hands in the direction of play," explained Natasha as she laid down a red 4.

"It makes things more interesting," added Clint, as Sam nodded in understanding.

"So, Steve, did you hear anything from Tony?" asked T'Challa casually. He was trying to be discrete about the situation, but the tension that ran through the room was unmistakable.

Steve paused, picking at the scruffy beard beginning to grow on his face. "He answered, I don't know how much help we're gonna get."

"You don't think he'll go to Ross?" Clint inquired, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't very pleased with the idea of contacting the billionaire; his trust for the man was practically nonexistent now.

"No, I don't think he'll go to Ross. I still think he helped out when I broke in to get you guys out, it was too easy. But hey, if he does, then maybe its a good thing. Natasha says we need all the help we can get. But I doubt he'd come. Ross is still preoccupied with tracking us through, where did those coordinates that we left him point to?"

"Australia," reminded Sam.

"Right," continued Steve. "So he's got his hands full. Thank you again, T'Challa, for providing us with that software."

"Not a problem Captain,"said T'Challa absent-mindedly, as he tried to debate what card to play next.

"I've told you, I'm not Captain America anymore. My talk with Tony reminded me of that. However, that being said, if we don't get any help from him, we're going to need to figure out what we're going to do, what our play is going to be."

The room grew quiet, as each person focused their thoughts on Steve's words.

"This is obviously a large task to handle. As far as we can tell they have weapons this world is not prepared to see, not now, if ever. Natasha, you said they're also responsible for the young girls that have gone missing in the surrounding towns?"

Natasha nodded solemnly, and Clint looked up at his partner carefully, confused.

"I thought this was a weapons thing?"

Steve shook his head, puzzled. "Natasha said young girls were involved?"

Everyone turned and stared at Natasha, waiting for answers.

"These people, I thought Clint and I had finished them, but they had a lot of followers, and since I've been so focused on the Avengers, I didn't know how- how bad it's gotten," Natasha breathed, avoiding eye contact with Clint, who was now pale.

"What do they need girls for?" asked Sam, unaware of the rising tension between Clint and Natasha. Natasha took a deep breath, stared at the wall opposite to her, and continued.

"They, they take the girls and brainwash them, then slowly rebuild them into soldiers, assassins, spies, whatever they want. Based on my estimates they have between 20 to 30 girls held captive in there. If we move quick enough, we can get to them before they're too far gone and-"

"How come you didn't tell me?" growled Clint. Natasha continued avoiding eye contact.

"Look at me," Clint spoke softly.

"Clint-" Steve tried to intervene, but Clint was too far gone.

"LOOK AT ME!" Clint shouted, standing up, knocking over his chair, sending a few UNO cards flying. Steve, Sam, and T'Challa tensed up, ready to grab Clint at the slightest movement.

Slowly, Natasha raised her eyes to look at the fuming archer in front of her. She hadn't flinched in the slightest when he had yelled because she was ready for that exact reaction. The pain that was clearly visible in Clint's eyes was something she hated to see. Clint never showed his emotions, unless he was alone with her, or if he was really truly so upset that he chose to show his true feelings rather than his typical mask.

" _(In Russian) How could you have done this? Why did you keep this from me? Why didn't you tell me?"_

Glaring back at her partner, Natasha blinked slowly. " _I didn't want to drag you into this. I thought this was something I could handle. I didn't think it had gotten as bad as it had."_

 _"We made a promise. The day I took you into SHIELD, we made a promise that you'd never face them alone again. Any of them. That's the whole reason why we became partners."_

 _"I know Clint, I know. But you have Laura, and baby Nathaniel-"_

 _"That's never stopped me before!"_ Clint spat. A darkness fell over Natasha's face.

 _"I am so sorry if I wanted you to have a life, a family, something that I never could have and never will! So what I've still been researching the Red Room after the fall of SHIELD? No matter how long I live I will always go after them. You? You have a family who cares and loves you! I'm not going to ask you to chose between being with them and helping me. What did you think, SHIELD would fall and I would stop going after them? It will never end, Clint, ever!"_

 _"Natasha-"_

 _"No! I did what I did for you! To finally let you have the life you've always wanted. So don't sit here looking like a damn puppy who just got kicked! You're here, aren't you? I called you when I thought I couldn't handle it. You're welcome!"_

Natasha was now standing, breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling, while Clint stared at her, the fire dying in his eyes, his mask slowly falling back into place.

"I'm sorry. Really," he finally stated.

Once glance at his face and Natasha knew he meant it. She nodded, then sighed, releasing the tension in her body.

Steve and Sam shared a glance with each other, while T'Challa just shook his head.

" _You two have serious issues, you know that?"_ he spoke in Russian, grinning at the two. Both Clint and Natasha smirked and chuckled lightly.

"So, we're good then?" Steve asked carefully.

"Yeah, we're good," Clint nodded.

"Alright, well let's pull ourselves together and hash out a game plan, since you say there's a small window of opportunity, Natasha?"

"Yeah," said Natasha, sitting back down in her chair.

"In that case we need to-"

There was a crash, and then a sudden earsplitting sound and a bright flash of light sent the whole team flying for cover on the ground.

Clutching the carpet, Clint shook his head, trying to get rid of the ringing in his head. He blinked, confused, because there was suddenly smoke and lights everywhere. He heard muffled yelling and what he thought was gunfire.

Panicked, he tried searching for his gun that he had placed on a nearby table. His bow was back in his room, but he could barely get his bearings as it was. He tried getting up, but something was holding him down. He turned, and realized Natasha was on top of him.

She was in the process of regaining consciousness, as blood was pouring from a gash on her head. She blinked back at him, then nodded. Behind her, Clint could just make out a figure in the smoke. It was a face he knew, but it couldn't be. It just couldn't.

The figure moved closer, and Natasha turned, her eyes growing wide in shock. She tried to speak, but the figure hit her hard in the head with the stock of his gun, knocking her unconscious.

Confused, Clint shook his head, blinking. A loud ringing filled his head, and everything was growing blurry, yet the figure remained unnervingly clear.

"Pietro?" Clint whispered, before the figure knocked him unconscious and he knew no more.


End file.
